"Well, if they're really like the rest of us, maybe someone's gone over the edge. You know, just plain crazy."
"Possible. Raphael's been calling me too; I don't know why. Obviously, I haven't been able to call him back yet."
Luci frowned. “I thought you and he were—"
"We were, that is, we are,” Cyn added quickly. “But this isn't personal; it's business. I know you don't like the guy, Luce—"
"Because he hurt you."
"It wasn't all—"
Luci gave her a reproving look. “He broke your heart."
Cyn sucked in a breath at the blunt reminder. She'd almost managed to forget it in the rush of events since she'd hatched the plot to rescue Mirabelle. Right. “Yeah,” she said and continued quietly. “But Raphael's a businessman, Luci. And this is very bad for business. If he knows about it, then he's trying to stop it."
"I'm sorry, hon."
"No. No, you're right. I was getting carried away there for a minute. Look, Eckhoff's going to call when he has something set up. Probably much later tonight, when the morgue's quieter. I'll go over there and talk to him some more and I'll let you know what I find out. You've got to keep this to yourself, though, Luci. If Dean knows I'm talking to you, he'll be pissed as hell and I'll get nothing."
Luci made a zipping motion across her lips, then opened them and said, “I trust you. I don't trust Eckhoff or any of those guys, but I know you'll do what's right."
"Okay, thanks. So, what can you tell me about the dead girls? Were any of them yours?"
"I don't know much, not even their names, except for the latest one. She was pretty regular with us—Carlene. That's all I know, her first name, and that she was close to eighteen, maybe nineteen. You know how it is, Cyn, you're lucky if they tell you their real name. I've been trying to find out about the rest of the victims. You'd think the cops would be glad for someone who wants to help figure out who they are, but I can't even get that much cooperation."
"It's complicated, Luce. The murders were in different jurisdictions, different cities. It probably took the cops a while to connect them to each other, much less get any kind of coordination going. But believe me, they want to find the killer every bit as much as you do."
Luci gave her a skeptical look.
"Okay, well, maybe not as much as you, but you're one of a kind."
"Yes, I am,” she sniffed.
Cyn smiled. “Go home, Luce. Go back to your little chickies and I'll call you."
Lucia stood, gathering up trash and shoving it into a grease-stained brown paper bag. “You're a bad influence. I don't know why I let you talk me into eating this junk,” she groused, wiping her hands.
"Because it tastes good. Did you have a chance to—” She stopped when Luci held up a bag with the Gap logo across the side.
"Best I could do on short notice, but it's all there."
"It's perfect, Luce. Thanks. I'll take her shopping in the next couple of days, but you wouldn't believe what she's been wearing. She's twenty-three years old and dresses like someone's grandmother. Not my grandmother, of course, she'd never be caught dead in those things."
"Your grandmother has excellent taste. I saw her at a banquet last week."
"You see her more than I do."
"That's because I actually participate in my community's events."
"Uh huh.” Cyn didn't rise to the bait. Luci was always after her to attend some fund-raising get-together. Cyn gave her friend a sweet smile.
Luci shook her head in disgust. “Okay. I'm off. Don't leave me hanging, Cyn. Call me. Even if you don't have anything new to tell me, you need to call, okay?"
"Don't count on anything tonight. It'll probably be pretty late by the time I meet Eckhoff, and it may take a while to follow up on what I find out.” They walked together to the hangar door, and Cyn caught a troubled look on her friend's face. “Don't worry, Luce, I'll call you tomorrow night at the latest."
"That's not what I'm worrying about."
"Don't worry about that either. Raphael and I are history. This is strictly business."